Never Stop Searching
by Totally-Out-Of-It
Summary: As life moves on after Erik's defection, Charles's mind continues to work, to search, to track his every move. There's an emotion there that won't let him forget and give up on his friend. Erik/Charles XMenFC Slash


Have you seen First Class? My god, I can't get that beauty out of my head. So here's some of it seeping out of my brain

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><p>The first time it happened, it was a mix between an apology and a gloat. On the operating table, while the paramedics tried to revive his legs, he felt a pain inside himself. It wasn't in his legs. They were still useless, but he did give the doctors false hopes when he grimaced and sucked in air. There was such grief, bubbling up in his chest and through his mind. He felt it as his own, as he'd felt so many other emotions. He knew instantly whose emotions he had tapped, whose pain. It was all too familiar. He'd memorized every flavor of emotion from this person, but this was the first time he'd felt such grief. It was new and it brought a quick tear to his eye, which he could not wipe away with his hands held down in case he felt the doctors on his legs.<p>

"Erik," he huffed, letting out a sorrowed breath.

"What did he say? Who's Erik?" he heard a doctor ask. His mind was tuned in somewhere else and he couldn't hear their thoughts.

"The man who shot him," came Moira's voice. "Can you help him?"

No, he wanted to say. No, stop telling them that. But his mind was on the grief, holding on, grasping for it, trying to trace it back. When his mind found Erik, twenty miles away, he was stunned. Never before had he felt from such a distance, and now that he was in Erik's mind, everything was so much more poignant. Sadness. Guilt. It was all Charles could do not to let more tears escape.

'_I'm so sorry, Charles,'_ Erik's voice seeped into his mind. _'It's all my fault, but… but that human was as much to blame. They all were. And so were you. You were trying so hard to protect them, and now look where you end up. You're in a hospital. They're going to make a lab rat of you.'_

Anger. Distaste. Vengence.

'_No. I won't let that happen. If they keep you, if they start anything like from the camps, I'll put an end to it. You're far too powerful, too important to let them sink their fangs into… I'm the only one who can hurt you.'_

And Charles gasped as the link was suddenly cut, like a physical amputation, and he gasped in shock. The doctors were stunned, but Moira talked them out of their curiosity. Lingering shock from the encounter, she'd said. The doctor's bought it and carried on. Moira gave him a questioning look that day, but he already knew he would erase her memory once they were finished with this. Besides, she wouldn't have understood. She was trying to help, to cover up his mental abilities from these unknowing doctors, but she would never be able to help cure the hole left in his heart. She could only hope to fill in the edges.

'_I'm sorry, Moira. I'm alright,'_ he said to her, and she stopped her probing.

So many months, so many achievements. He was now Professor X, starting the foundations of his own school with the help of Hank, Banshee, and Havoc. A girl, he had decided. They needed a girl, and so there was Storm. She was still hiding from them mostly, but they would get there. She would be amazing. He could feel it. There was the outline of a new jet, the start of Cerebro II. There was progress. And every few months, a message.

The first one had been curious. He thought for a moment that Erik had known it was happening, but no more. They were scattered thoughts, random emotions – nothing so poignant or powerful, and they took concentration to hold on to. How far was Erik now? How many miles separated them? During the fourth connection, he couldn't stop himself. He spoke back.

'_Charles,'_ Erik had hissed. _'What are you doing in my head?'_

'_My friend, your emotion is far too strong for me to ignore,_' he'd said.

'_Is your government girlfriend there?'_

'_No. Never. It's only you.'_

'_You really shouldn't tease.'_

And they'd spoken for almost five minutes about Cerebro and its organization, about the start of a school and how lousy a teacher Charles was going to be, and about building an army and how Emma Frost didn't have enough talent in her whole body to equal what was apparent in Charles' foot. But at the mention of his legs, there was an argument, about the cause and the consequences, about their differences, and suddenly Erik's thoughts went blank and he knew it was lost for now.

So time passed, and every so often there was a blip – a break in the shield, something powerful enough to call out. Half the time, he knew Erik was calling to him, and not the other way around. Erik needed him, wanted to talk. It may have been foolish, but he still felt he could convince Erik to come to his side, to rejoin him in the fight to defend humanity. The chances were slim, but he had to keep trying, because love makes you do stupid things, and Charles loved Erik more than the other could possibly know. Erik was the only person that Charles had delved deep into their mind, learning all he could without pushing, without hurting. He was the only one Charles wanted to know so deeply, but none of it helped bring Erik back to him.

And there were nights where he would lie in bed, unable to move his legs or stretch the indefinite ache in his lower back, and his only solace was stretching his mind, focusing without Cerebro to find where in the world Erik was now. He could disappear and reappear anywhere he wanted, as close or as far from Charles as he chose. And Charles would search for him, and when he finally gave into exhaustion and stopped trying for the night, he would drift into dream with lead in his chest, a metallic force that only one could move away. He would dream and wonder on how things could have been if any one thing had been different.

As he looked up one day and took in the large mass that was the dish beyond his property, Charles wondered over the time passed since he'd been able to climb to the top and watch one of his first three students, if they could be called that, soar above the ground. The grass curled around the wheels of his chair and shifted in a breeze that ruffled his hair.

"It has been quite a time since we last saw one another, my friend," he said, lowering his eyes down to his knees and then to his hands, resting on the arms of the chair. Last time he had seen Erik, he'd still been able to shift his legs.

"Can never catch you off guard, can I?" responded the deep, tinted voice. Strong and sturdy feet stepped up and stopped beside the wheelchair.

"Not without your special helmet, I'm afraid," Charles said, smiling sadly and casting his eyes up at his old friend. His chest ached with how close he was. If he had his legs, he would have stepped closer, maybe even grabbed Erik's shoulders, but he didn't have them anymore… not since their last face to face.

"You must understand, Charles. It's not that I don't trust you."

"You just don't want me in your head, controlling you," he finished. He took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the satellite dish.

"You made a great deal of promises when we were training for Shaw, you know," Erik said.

"I know, and I couldn't keep half of them," he said. He looked back up at Erik and sighed. "What are you doing here, Erik?"

"Some things just aren't meant for telepathy. I know that must seem foreign to you." Erik held his helmet under his arm and stepped forward. He put his hand out, feeling the strength of the metal so close to him. "It has been five years, Charles. We're both building our armies."

"I'm not building an army, Erik. I'm building a school, a place where people like us can feel safe and learn to control their powers… a place where they can learn to do good in the world." Charles flicked his hand, but his chair didn't move, and he knew before he could even start reading Erik's mind that the other mutant was the cause.

"School. Training. Call it what you like, but this is as much your army and those following me are mine." Erik lowered his hand and turned to look at him. "It's been five years, and I just wondered why it was that every time I remove this helmet, every time I think on you, you're there. You always manage to find me when I'm waiting for you. How is that?"

"One cannot lose something that one has already found," Charles replied. He smiled then and shook his head, looking up into the sunlight and Erik's eyes. "I have never stopped searching for you… not even in my slumber."

Erik's eyes held his for a moment, their strength and determination burning hot, and then they cooled and lowered to look on Charles' legs, hooked into the chair. Erik seemed to think on it and then he stepped up close to those legs. He placed his hand on Charles's knee, but no sensation found its way to the telepath's mind, no matter how he thought on it.

"I still can't feel them," he said knowingly.

"Did you read my mind for that?" Erik asked.

"No. It was what I was thinking and it was written all over your face." Charles smiled and placed his hand over top of Erik's. "When you risk standing before me, I dare not use my gifts on you without your permission. I know you don't want to be here."

"What about before I left?" Erik asked. "Did you ever 'dare' use your gifts without my permission then? When we were training, did you use any of us as practice while you helped us?"

Charles pressed his lips together and shook his head forcefully, his eyes pained. "Never, dear friend. I felt it as real as you did, and I felt it more because it was true for you. I would never want to force anything of the sort. I… You have to believe me. I lov-"

"That's enough, Charles," Erik cut in, his hand tighter on the other's knee, but still no reaction was gained. He leaned in, his other hand on the back of the chair, and kissed Charles Xavier briefly. Charles couldn't move his legs, but he could move his arms, and he brought one up to touch Erik's face and bring him in for a second kiss. It was the taller man with control over the situation, though, and he pulled back before a third.

"Erik," Charles murmured.

"The next we meet in person, Charles, it will be in a battle and as enemies. You cannot afford to live in a fantasy anymore. Train your army well to meet mine, or your precious humans will fall to us." Then he replaced his helmet on his head and placed his hands in his pockets. "Stop searching for me, Charles. You have more important things to focus on. If you're spending half of your concentration on me, you're only devoting half of your attention to whatever else you're doing."

"Erik, please."

"Just pointing out something that could save your life one day."

The wheelchair was no doubt under Erik's control, but it mattered little. He didn't try to follow Erik at all as he walked out of view and into the distance. He just sat there and tried to look over his shoulder at the disappearing figure. That helmet was guarding more than secret plans or location. Charles touched his forehead and looked down at his knees. He could still feel it in his own mind – Erik's feelings. He hadn't needed to try reading to find the message screaming around the edges of Erik's brain. Their next meeting may be in battle, but there had been no negativity, no anger in Erik this time – not after Charles said it had all been real. It had been all fear and worry tinged with warmth, a joy of sorts.

Charles relaxed his mind and sighed. "I will never stop searching, my friend. Until we're both old and gray, I will continue to find you and meet you in any way you'll allow. Erik, I'll never stop searching."

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><p>Hope you liked it. Please Review!<p> 


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